


pining

by fiinigan (wydryn)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 7+1, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, and as happy an ending as i could muster, i am so lonely in lockdown, i’d say light to medium angst, this is born out of my personal loneliness and wish to be kissed, written in about two hours and Very briefly proofread immediately after finishing xx
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23452558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wydryn/pseuds/fiinigan
Summary: The first time Seamus Finnigan thinks about kissing Dean Thomas he’s in his first year of Hogwarts. It’s more an idea than a thought, a vaguely realised notion which goes as fleetingly as it arrives. And when Dean speaks, his words chase the thought from his brain. And that could have been the end of that.or seven times seamus finnigan thinks about kissing dean thomas(and one time dean kisses him)
Relationships: Dean Thomas/Seamus Finnigan
Comments: 12
Kudos: 139





	pining

_I_

The first time Seamus Finnigan thinks about kissing Dean Thomas he’s in his first year of Hogwarts. 

It’s during one of their midnight Astronomy lessons, and Seamus is lying head down on the table, as Dean doodles over an unfinished star chart. They’re not alone in rarely finishing work for this class, despite their professor’s absolute demands for focus. 

“What’s your star sign?” Dean suddenly mutters, breaking the silence between them. 

Seamus barely looks up. “Dunno.” 

“You for real?” 

“Aye,” Seamus says, distantly hearing his control over his accent slipping. “More a muggle thing than a wizard thing I think.” 

“My aunt used to tell my sister that the stars decided everything about you,” Dean said, sounding distant. 

“What do they say about you?” Seamus asked, looking up for the first time.

“No idea, my aunt would never talk to me,” Dean said, and Seamus’s responding laugh seemed to bring him back to himself. He laughed more when he made eye contact with Seamus. “I know I’m an Aquarius but fuck knows what that means.” 

Seamus grins. “You’re one step further than me.” 

Dean blinks, smiling slightly before he replies. It’s in that second that Seamus feels it, the moment between Dean smiling and opening his mouth to speak. He thinks for a barely an instant about what it would be like to kiss Dean. 

It’s more an idea than a thought, a vaguely realised notion which goes as fleetingly as it arrives. And when Dean does speak, his words chase the thought from his brain. And that could have been the end of that. 

_II_

The second time Seamus Finnigan thinks about kissing Dean Thomas he’s twelve years old. 

They’re sitting together on the sofas in the Common Room. They’re not alone, Neville, Lavender and Parvati are there too. Parvati is teasing Neville about what happened in Potions and Lavender is trying to defend him as he blushes and Seamus and Dean are sitting maybe too close together. 

“–just needed to stir it till it went purple Neville, it's not a difficult task,” Parvati was saying. 

“It’s not Neville’s fault Snape has the patience of an eight year old child,” Lavender argues back. 

“He is a terrible teacher,” Dean says. He leans back, and throws one arm over the back of the sofa. It lies casually behind Seamus’s head, curving slightly so he can see Dean’s fingers out of the corner of his eye. 

He has to turn slightly, finding the twitch of Dean’s fingers as he laughs and talks too distracting to focus. Instead now he watches Dean’s face as he laughs and openly displays emotions. 

Every time Dean glances at him – he loses count after the tenth – a warm feeling begins to develop and grow until he almost feels himself about to reach out for Dean’s face, to pull him closer, to– 

Instead he relaxes back into the sofa cushions, unable to convince himself that Dean’s arm doesn’t shift a little closer, until it’s brushing the back of his head. 

_III_

By the time they reach the end of third year Seamus can’t count the amount of times he has thought about kissing Dean. This idea, this abstract notion has evolved into fully formed desire. 

Despite his best efforts he can’t stop thinking about it, every conversation with the other boy has him inching closer and closer and closer. 

He’s come closer to slipping this year. And now at the end of it he can feel himself a second away from cracking. They’re sitting at the edge of the loch, at the foot of a large oak, throwing in pieces of their sandwiches to lure the Giant Squid. It’s not working, but Dean laughs when Seamus calls out for the squid so he continues his efforts to hear that reaction. 

“Maybe we can ask Hagrid at the next Care of Magical Creatures,” Dean suggests, leaning back against the tree and popping a spare square of sandwich into his mouth. 

Seamus settles against the tree as well, nudging Dean’s hand to direct it to his mouth with the sandwich. Dean feeds him obligingly. 

“How do you think it got in?” Seamus asks.

“Swam,” Dean says, throwing in another piece of bread. It misses the water, bouncing off a rock before landing two metres away. 

“Nah, it’s freshwater,” Seamus says. “No connection to the sea.” 

Dean shrugs again. “Maybe it was born here.” 

“Maybe,” Seamus hmm’s. He turns so his back is to the water and he’s facing Dean. Dean studies him quietly, a little half smile on his face. 

“Or Hagrid sneaked it in,” Dean says. “Malfoy said he brought in a dragon. And there are the rumours about the massive spiders in the forest.” 

“Maybe,” Seamus says again, watching Dean’s mouth move, not exactly listening to the sounds produced. It’s like he could feel Dean’s lips on his already, as if he had already stepped forward and fallen. 

Dean hasn’t stopped smiling. He’s watching Seamus as well. Then his eyes lose focus and fix on something behind Seamus. 

“Holy fuck it worked.” Seamus turns to see the squid they were here for breach the surface of the lake and grab for a piece of ham. 

“Good boy!” he says, momentarily forgetting how close he was to finally knowing what it was to kiss Dean Thomas. 

_IV_

His fourth year of Hogwarts is different for a whole host of reasons. First there’s no Quidditch. The castle is filled with people Seamus doesn’t know or recognise and being a non-British wizard in the castle now lands him in the majority. 

But most of all he now knows definitively what Dean Thomas’s lips feel like when they’re pressed against his own. It was brief and more for comfort among a panic than anything else. But now he knows that there is no moment of his life he would rather be caught in, looped through again and again, nothing that could possibly compare to kissing Dean Thomas again. 

It’s overwhelming to see Dean and not be able to kiss him over and over, again and again. He looks away when they talk, he laughs nervously to fill the silence. He can’t let his hands linger on Dean’s sides anymore, for fear that if he leaves them too long they’ll grab Dean and pull him close and he’ll– 

Dean has no such qualms. If anything he’s clingier. Seamus can always find one hand on his arm, a leg pressed against his own. And now, as they walk down the corridor, passing Christmas decorations stacked on the wall, Dean seems to be purposefully brushing their hands together as their arms swing. 

“So,” Dean says, sounding nervous for a reason Seamus can’t quite identify. “The yule ball’s coming up. Have you got any plans?” 

“Aye,” Seamus says. “I’ve asked Lavender.”

Dean’s arm goes still, and then folds into the other one. “Oh.” 

Seamus knows he’s done something wrong. “Were you planning on asking her?” he asks, frantically. He knows it doesn’t matter who he takes, only one person will have his attention and it won’t be one he can dance with. 

“No,” Dean says. “I wasn’t.” 

They walk in silence, Seamus sneaking glances over at his best friend, trying to stop feeling phantom lips against his own. 

_V_

During their fifth year Seamus and Dean fight. A lot. 

They fight over Harry’s claims of Voldemort being alive (of course Seamus knows Harry isn’t a liar, of course part of him knows that Voldemort is back, but a larger part of him is clinging to the hope that he isn’t, because if he is then Dean is in danger and Seamus can’t lose Dean he can’t).

But he can’t tell Dean that when he’s yelling back, and he goes to sleep in his own bed, cold and alone. He chokes back tears and stuffs his face into his pillow. 

Three nights pass before Dean crawls into his bed. Seamus doesn’t move. He pretends to be asleep, because if he doesn’t then he’ll turn around, and if he turns around he won’t be able to stop himself, and he'll kiss Dean. 

So instead he waits a few minutes to make sure Dean doesn’t leave. “I’m sorry,” he says. 

He feels himself get pulled tighter into Dean’s arms, and all the tension he didn’t know he was holding melts away. 

_VI_

Seamus is sixteen when his heart gets broken. 

He’s walking down a different corridor on his way back to the common room after an unfruitful trip to the library. Dean said he would meet him there if he had the time, but he had Quidditch practise so Seamus hadn’t been expecting him. 

He hears a thud, and someone giggling briefly, before he turns the corner and sees Dean pressing Ginny Weasley against the wall. 

He can’t move. He’s frozen in space, just watching as Dean cups her cheek with one hand and runs the other down her back. He can’t look away as she sighs into Dean’s mouth, can’t stop watching her arch into Dean's touch, winding her fingers into Dean’s hair. 

He finds himself choking on air, feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. It’s as if one of Dean’s footballers had run over him in studded trainers, digging them through his skin. 

He can’t move until he has to, until he has to drag himself away or he might die on the spot. He turns back around the corner and doesn’t stop running until he’s far enough away that neither of them will be able to hear him. And then he slams against the wall, sliding down it to bury his head in his knees 

And he’s trying so hard not to picture himself in Ginny’s place but he can’t stop himself from imagining Dean’s hand on his face, on his back, his hands in Dean’s hair, their lips pressed together until there’s no room to think or breathe. 

_VII_

In Seamus’s seventh year all he sees is Dean’s face. 

Every time he closes his eyes Dean is in the darkness behind his eyelids. He dreams of him, dreams of them laughing at the lake, dreams of Dean screaming as he’s tortured. Dreams of them talking until late in the common room, dreams of Dean sitting in a chair, as a pale white hand points a wand and whispers. Green light echoes across his mind until Seamus wakes up to himself screaming and he is screaming and he can’t make himself stop. 

Now he is dreaming of Dean. They’re in a corridor. It’s just the two of them, and Dean is laughing at something Seamus has said. 

And Seamus looks at him, and doesn’t hesitate to push their lips together. Dean kisses him back, like he always does in these dreams. Dean kisses him back and backs him up against the wall. 

Then his hands are roving over Dean, touching him everywhere, and for a second his mind tricks him into thinking this is real, that Dean is solid beneath his hands.

But he wakes up in a hammock in the Room of Requirement, and Dean is lost to him again. 

_+I_

The battle is over now. All around him Seamus sees reunions finishing, ones that began mid-fight because they were forced to. His heart clenches at the thought of the reunions that will remain unfinished, at the corpses littering the halls of Hogwarts.

He turns to Dean to finish their reunion, reaching for his face. 

“I missed you,” he breathed, feeling tears well up. 

Dean brings one hand up to hold Seamus’s at his cheek. “You’re the only reason I survived,” Dean said, and the honesty behind those words caused his tears to fall. 

“You too,” he manages to choke out, eyes still exploring Dean’s face, trying to pinpoint the differences a year made. 

Dean makes a noise in the back of his throat. “I needed to make it back to you, I needed to be able to–” He cuts off. 

Seamus knows what he means, what he’s trying to say. They both know why they made it through this past year. 

Seamus closes his eyes, but it’s Dean who closes the gap. This kiss is nothing like at the Quidditch World Cup, no panic or fear. This is just – It just feels right. 

Dean kisses exactly how Seamus imagined, and nothing like it all at once. At first it’s slow, just two people pressed together for comfort. Then Seamus’s hand slips from Dean’s cheek to behind his neck, as he tilts his head up to meet Dean easier. 

Dean makes a noise at the back of his throat, and his arms wrap around Seamus’s back, pulling him in close to him as they kiss. His mouth opens, and Seamus follows without question. 

A deep elation settles into Seamus’s gut and he pulls Dean down closer, as if they’re the only two in the world. He pours the years of pining, the years of want into this one kiss, and he can feel Dean doing the same, can feel his cheeks wet with tears and he doesn’t know who they belong to. 

They break away for air, but stay pressed together, not wanting a single centimetre between them, not wanting to come apart for anything. 

“I love you,” Seamus says, even though he doesn’t need to, even though he can feel it written across his face. 

Dean smiles that same small, lazy smile back at him. Seamus can see love all over his face, in his deep brown eyes, in the tilt of his smile. Dean doesn’t need to answer for Seamus to know his response. 

“I love you too,” Dean says anyway, and captures his lips again.

**Author's Note:**

> ayyy, so this fic is a procrastination for continuing my Longer deamus fic ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/7554040/chapters/17180548 ) which i’m only up to writing goblet of fire for so if you’ve read that and are now reading this they’re not Directly linked because i’ve not finished ffam so i’m not sure how closely this will fit, however it does fit pretty cleanly with the first three chapters so i’m very impressed w myself 
> 
> please please please leave a comment if you liked it!! and check out my longer unfinished deamus as well she’s my real baby i’m committed to her in a way i’ve never been committed to a fic before
> 
> (+seamus is most likely from a town in the republic of ireland which is why i’ve said he’s not british. the accent slipping is from personal experience, as a non-english brit i have to adapt my accent when i talk to english people and it does slip when i’m tired and i assume other british people also tighten up their pronunciation a little so that they don’t constantly get asked to repeat themselves)


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